Chapter V

Thus Bo Peep lost her sheep, leaving these fleecy tail-bearers to come home solitary to the accustomed fold. She did but humble herself before the manifestation of a Wessex necessity.

And Fate, sitting aloft in the careless expanse of ether, rolled her destined chariots thundering along the pre-ordained highways of heaven, crushing a soul here and a life there with the tragic completeness of a steam-roller, granite-smashing, steam-fed, irresistible. And butter was churned with a twang in it, and rustics danced, and sheep that had fed in clover were "blasted," like poor Bonduca's budding prospects. And, from the calm nonchalance of a Wessex hamlet, another novel was launched into a world of reviews, where the multitude of readers is not as to their external displacements, but as to their subjective experiences.

[THE END.

* * * * *

_Master Tommy_ (_returning from the funeral_). "Why did Uncle Jonas cry so for, Aunt? He cried more than anybody!"

_Aunt_ (_grimly_). "Of course! Most of the property is left to him, my dear!"]

* * * * *

"Why, that's for the folks as can't read!"]

* * * * *

_First Gossip._ "So you was nivver axed tu t'funeral?"

_Second Gossip._ "Nivver as much as inside t'house. But nobbut; wait till _we_ hev' a funeral of us own, an' _we_'ll show 'em!"]

* * * * *

_Parson._ "Why, John, what are you doing there?"

_John._ "I be too wet to work, zur."

_Parson._. "Well, if it's too wet to work, why don't you go home?"

_John._ "Wull, my old 'ooman, she do jaw so!"]

* * * * *

_Young Lady._ "Can you tell me the nearest way to get to Pulham from here?"

_Sweep._ "Well, miss, I'm going there meself. So, if yer jump in, I'll drive yer!"]

* * * * *

_First Village Dame._ "Did I bring you back that basket you lent me last week?"

_Second Dame_ (_emphatically_). "No, indeed, you did not."

_First Dame._ "That's a pity, for I just came round to borrow it again!"]

* * * * *

"Here in cool grot and mossy cell
We rural fays and fairies dwell!"]

* * * * *

* * * * *

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."--_Hamlet._

(_Heard outside a Country Circus._)

_Old Jarge._ "Wen ye sees wot comes from furrin parts, bless yer 'eart, ye just feels like a bit o' dirt!"]

* * * * *

"THE LAST STRAW."--For further particulars apply to the gleaners.

* * * * *

THE WEATHER AND THE CROPS.--_Note._ Always have your hair cut very short in the hottest weather.

* * * * *

GARDENING AMUSEMENT FOR COLWELL-HATCHNEY.--Spinning turnip tops.

* * * * *

ADVICE TO THE FARMER.--Keep your weather eye open.

* * * * *

"Did ye see the Lord Mayor when you was up to Lunnon?"

"Aye, lad, I did."

"De' 'e gang aboot wi' a chain?"

"No; 'e gangs loose!"]

* * * * *

_Miss Hobbs_ (_who dislikes tobacco_). "I see you are at your idol again!"

_Smoker._ "Yes; I'm burning it!"]

* * * * *

"Th' ole squire stop an' spoke to me this marnin'; an' Oi ast 'im 'ow Master Philip was gettin' on in Lunnon. 'Oh,' says 'e, ''e 's bin called to the Bar.' Oi dunno wot 'e meant, so Oi didn' say nothin'; but Oi says to meself, 'Ah,' Oi says, 'from what _Oi_ remember of 'im, 'e didn' want no _callin'_!'"]

* * * * *

ACCOMMODATING.--_Old Lady._ "Now then, what do you want?" _The Tramp._ "I ain't pertickler, lady. What 'av' yer got?"]

* * * * *

_The Vicar's Daughter._ "Papa was very shocked, Giles, to see you standing outside the 'Green Man' this morning, after church."

_The Village Reprobate._ "Oi can 'sure ye, miss, it wus na fault o' moine that I wus standin' ootside!"]

* * * * *

"Well, I gives 'im cat's-meat. And when I can't afford that, why, 'e 'as to 'ave wot _we_ 'ave."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Scroggins_ (_considering_). "Well, doctor, I don't know much about her pulses, but as for her temper"--(_feelingly_)--"she's got a plenty of _that_ to-day!"]

* * * * *

"Well, Simpson, how do you like the hot weather?"

"Can't stand it, sir! It's hawful! Ain't got no stomach for my victuals, sir!"]

* * * * *

AT A CATTLE MARKET

AN AUTUMN REMINISCENCE

SCENE--_A large open space near a cathedral town. Fat old farmers in white hats, and smart young farmers in Newmarket coats and neat riding boots; elderly shepherds in blue, grey, and white smocks. From time to time there is a stampede of bewildered bullocks, whose hind legs are continually getting hitched over each other's horns. Connoisseurs lean over pen-rails and examine pigs reverently, as if they were Old Masters. Others prod them perfunctorily. The pigs bear these inconveniences meekly, as part of the penalty of greatness. Sheep look over one another's shoulders and chew nervously on one side of their mouths._

BY THE PIG-PENS

_First Enthusiast._ Did y' iver see sech a sow as that theer? _I_ niver did, and (_aggressively_) naw moor _yo'_ didn't neither, 'Enery, _did_ ye now?

_'Enery_ (_unimpressed_). I doan't see naw 'dvantage in heving pigs so big as that theer.

_First Enth._ Big! She's like a elephant. _Theer's_ a lop ear now--weighs thutty-four stoan if she weighs a hounce, she do!

[_The sow grunts complacently._

_'Enery._ Ah. I 'ad one loike 'er, I 'ad. Eat three bucketsful a day, she did, and (_with a sense of unforgettable injury_) mis'able little pegs she 'ad with it all!

_Second Enth._ I go in fur Berkshire myself, but Sussex are very good; they scale so much better 'n they look; _full_ o' flesh they are--weigh a good stun moor nor ye'd take 'em fur, and then they cut _up_ so well! (_With a dreamy tenderness._) Yes, I'm fond o' they Sussexes, I am--_very_ fond of 'em!

* * * * *

_A Dealer_ (_trying to dispose of a litter of small black pigs_). Seven good ole stiddy little pigs! I don't care '_oo_ buys 'em (_as if he usually required the strictest testimonials to character_). I _must_ sell 'em. Pig-buyin' to-day, sir? You'd _better_ 'ave that little lot, sir.

[_Persuasively, to a passer-by, who however appears to think he had
much better not._

BY THE SHEEP-PENS

_Intending Purchaser_ (_to Seller_). What d'ye carl them yoes now? Southdowns?

[_He fixes his eyes on the cathedral spire, and awaits the next move._

_Seller_ (_after watching a rook out of sight, stirs up the sheep meditatively, and decides on candour_). Well--bout aaff an' aaff.

_Int. Purch._ Old yoes--well, ye know, 'taint like _young_ yoes, _be_ it now?

_Seller_ (_when he has finished shredding tobacco in the palm of his hand_). That's true enough.

_Int. Purch._ I dunno as I can do wi' any moor shep just now, if 'twas iver so.

_Seller_ (_listlessly_). Cann't ye, now? Theer's bin a genl'man from Leicestershire 'ere, wawntin' me to run 'im off a dozen or so--fur his perrk, d'ye see?

_Int. Purch._ (_with unaffected incredulity_). Ah.

[_A protracted silence, employed by each in careful inspection of his
boots._

_Seller_ (_addressing space_). They're a tidy lot o' yoes.

_Int. Purch._ (_as if this was a new view of them, which would require consideration_). Come off o' your own farm?

_Seller._ Druv 'em in myself this very marnin'.

_Int. Purch._ Ah. (_A pause apparently spent in mental calculation._) What might ye be askin' for 'un now?

_Seller._ For them yoes?

_Int. Purch._ Ah.

_Seller_ (_falls into a brown study, from which he at length emerges to tap the nearest ewe on the forehead and expectorate_). I wawnt five-an'-twenty shellin' a yead for them yoes.

_Int. Purch._ Five-an'-twenty?

_Seller._ Ah, that's what _I_ wawnt.

[_A longer silence than ever._

_Int. Purch._ I s'pose ye aint seen ole Jim 'Arrows 'bout 'ere this marnin', hev ye?

[_After some further preliminaries of this kind the moment at length
arrives at which a bargain can be struck without any suggestion of
unbecoming haste on either side._

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Free and Independent Voter._ "Wull, if they can't zend zummat better than thic ther cart to fetch I to the poll, I ain't a-goin' to vote. Zo there's an end of it; and you can go back an' tell 'um zo!"]

* * * * *

_Farmer._ "Well, Giles, what do you think of him?"

_Giles._ "I reckon he's allers in at meal-times, sir!"]

* * * * *

_Wealthy Parvenu._ "Not me, sir. The cemetery wall don't _need_ any repairing. Them as is inside can't get out, an' them as is outside don't want to get in. Good mornin'!"]

* * * * *

_First Rustic_ (_just out of the County Hospital_). An' they putt me under that theer chlorryfum--an' I simmed to go right oop into 'Evin--yes, I wur oop in 'Evin fur a toime, sure 'nough.

_Second Rustic_ (_with interest_). An' did ye 'ear a pianner?

* * * * *

_Elderly Farmer_ (_who is being applied to for the character of his late shepherd_). No, I never 'ad no fault to find wi' the fellow--(_conscientiously_) not as I knows on. He unnerstan's shep--I will say _that_ fur 'en--he's a rare 'un at doctorin' of 'em, too. An' a stiddy chap an' that, keps a civil tongue in 'is yead, and don't go away on the booze. No, _I_ aint got nawthen' to say 'gainst th' man.

_The Inquirer._ Would ye hev any objection to sayin' why ye're partin' wi' en?

_Eld. F._ Well, I dunno as theer was any partickler _reason_ for 't. (_He endeavours to think of one in a puzzle-headed way._) I s'pose I must ha' thowt I'd make a bit of a shift like--and theer ye hev it.

* * * * *

_First Stock-breeder_ (_to Second_). Well, an' how's Muster Spuddock to-day?

_Muster Spuddock._ Oh, 'mong th' middlins--'mong th' middlins. Pretty well fur an old 'un.

_First Stockbr._ An' how's trade with _you_, eh?

_Muster Sp._ (_beaming_). Oh, nawthen' doin'--nawthen' doin' 't all!

_First Stockbr._ (_with equal cheerfulness_). Same _'ere_, sir--same 'ere. On'y thing that's got money has been th' dead meat.

_Muster Sp._ (_without appearing to envy the dead meat on this account_). Ah, that's it. Ye cann't reckon on moor nor thrippence,--an' your own expenses, i' coorse.

_First Stockbr._ An' _thet_'s borderin' nigh on fowerpence; an' when it comes to two pound a bullock----!

[_They shake their heads with an unsuccessful attempt to look lugubrious at these cryptic considerations._

_Muster Sp._ Well, well; sheep food's goin' to be plentiful, too, right up to Christmas.

_First Stockbr._ That's the way to look on it.

[_They go off to dine at the ordinary, with a sense that matters might be worse._

* * * * *

[_Portrait of_ one _of the village Cochins, &c._]

* * * * *

"

* * * * *

_Cow Boy._ "Oh, I'm sure I hope yeou'll take the fust prize, 'm--that I dew!"]

* * * * *

* * * * *

(_Old song adapted_)

_Milkman_ (_aghast, anxiously_). "Hullo! Wot's that?"

_Old Woman._ "Hish! Our lodger, just come. Open-air cure!"]

* * * * *

AGRICULTURAL.--The poorest farmer in the land, if unable to feed his calves, can always graze his shins.

* * * * *

AT THE CATTLE SHOW.--_Young Farmer._ "Are you fond of beasts, Miss Gusherton?"

_Miss Gusherton._ "Oh, really, Mr. Pawker, if you mean that as a declaration, you must speak to mamma!"

* * * * *

_Doctor._ "Well, the fact is, I've got a patient up here that I must see, and the hounds are certain to come this way."

_Rector._ "I see. Killing two birds with one stone, eh?"]

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Old Rustic._ "Yes, sir. But, yer see, I ain't often at the public-'ouse!"]

* * * * *

_Second Doubtful Character._ "Well, if 'e can't, 'e can _punch_ 'im in the heye!"]

* * * * *

_Gentleman._ "Who do these pigs belong to, boy?"

_'Chaw.'_ "Why, this 'ere owd zow."

_Gentleman._ "Yes, yes; but I mean who's their master?"

_'Chaw.'_ "Why, that there little 'un; he's a varmun to foight!"]

* * * * *

(_Another incident at a Tenants' Ball_)

_Daughter of the house (dishevelled and torn after one turn round the room with clumsy partner)._ "Do you mind very much, Mr. Quickstep, if we sit out the rest of it?"

_Mr. Quickstep._ "Jest as you like, miss. I'm only a-dancin' for your pleasure!"]

* * * * *

_Giles_ (_whose son has gone to London "in service"_). "Well, to tell ye the truth, Miss Marji, Oi'm very troubled about 'im. Oi 'ad a letter last week, an' 'e says that 'e's livin' in a buildin' with 'undreds of people in it, an' it's three or fowr 'ouses one on top o' t'other. 'E says there's a railway carriage without an ingin' that goes up the middle o' th' buildin', an' the lights is all in bottles, an' you turns 'em on with a tap without usin' a loocifer, an'----"

_Miss Marjorie._ "But why are you troubled about James?"

_Giles._ "Aye, Oi fear 'e must 'a took to drink, miss!"]

* * * * *

SYMPATHY.--_Giles_ (_ruefully_). "Villiam, I've been an' gone an' 'listed!"

_William._ "Lor'! 'ave yer, though? Got the shillin'?"

_Giles._ "Yes."

_William._ "Well, then, let's go an' 'ave a glass at the 'Barley-Mow.' Don't let's be down'earted!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Visitor_ (_to old lady and daughters, one of whose hobbies is the keeping of a small herd of Jerseys_). "By the way, I didn't see you at our local agricultural show."

_Daughter._ "Oh, no! We never go unless we exhibit ourselves."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpudgit's Experiences of a Week-end Country Cottage._

_Mr. Fitzpudgit._ "What's the matter with the eggs, Matilda? I've tried them with a fork two or three times, and they're not soft yet!"]

* * * * *

_Mr. Fitzpudgit._ "Now don't faint again, my dear. I'll soon have this old rabbit in bits, now!"]

* * * * *

_Charwoman._ "If yer please, sir, th' landlord says as 'ow 'e can't do nothin', 'cos the thatcher's busy with the ricks."]

* * * * *

_Mrs. Fitzpudgit._ "What is it, dear?" _Mr. F._ "Nothing, my love. Only another puncture."]

* * * * *

_Vicar's Wife._ "I see, Mrs. Fieldsend, that Mary is home again."

_Mrs. Fieldsend._ "Yes, m'm. You see, she has been a year at Crowe Rectory, and eighteen months at Exholme Vicarage, and now we want her to go into a gentleman's family!"]

* * * * *

FAMILY JARS.--_Joan._ "The _idear_ of Susan's askin' John to William's funeral, after the way 'e'd beyaved! I shouldn't certainly ever _dream_ of askin' 'im to _yours_!"

_Darby._ "_What!_ Then all _I_ can say is, I should be very much offended if you _didn't_!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

LIVE STOCK.--_Little Miss Townley._ "Was that honey we had at breakfast 'home-made,' Mr. Stubbs?"

_Farmer Stubbs._ "Why, surely, missy."

_Little Miss T._ "Oh! Then I suppose you _keep a bee_?"

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Mrs. Barker._ "I dursn't do it, miss. _I do snore that dreadful when I'm asleep!_"]

* * * * *

_Vicar's Wife_ (_warmly_). "Oh, I'm _so_ glad to hear that! So many of these wealthy men have _no_ religion!"]

* * * * *

* * * * *

"These 'ere barbers makes a rare lot o' fuss about it, but 'tain't nowt to sheep shearin'."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

_He._ "The fellah actually thweatened to blow my bwains out!"

_She._ "Oh, how _could_ he? Of _course_ he wasn't serious."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Barber._ "Society! Why there ain't two soup an' fish families within a radius o' fifteen mile!"]

* * * * *

HOW MINERS OUGHT TO SWEAR.--"I'll take my Davy."

* * * * *

THE HARVEST OF CRIME.--The convict reaps the reward of his iniquity in the county crop.

* * * * *

_Shepherd._ "Lonely? No, I don't. Why, there was a man an a 'oss passed yesterday, an' there's you to-day."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

(_Culled and Fetched from a Considerable Distance by Dumb Crambo Junior_)

Coaly-us.

Sinner-area.

Pet-you-near.

Ah,-but-ill-us!

Peeler-go!-nyum!

Haughty culture.

Gee-rainy-(um!).

Ran-uncle-us.

Prim-you-la!

A-rum lily.]

* * * * *

BOON COMPANIONS!--_Bargee_ (_to Rustic_). "What! Ge-arge!" (_Rustic grins in response._)

_Bargee._ "I'm allus main glad to see thee, Ge-arge."

_Rustic._ "Whoy?"

_Bargee._ "'Cause I know there must be a public-'ouse close by!"

* * * * *

_Mrs. Ghoul._ "Ah, funerals isn't what they used to be in my time! I recollect when we 'ad 'am sangwishes and sherry wine; but now it's as much as you can git a bit o' cake and a cup o' tea. Ah!"]

* * * * *

CONTENTMENT.--_Giles._ "A happy New Year to you, marm, and I hope you'll be as lucky this year as I was last."

_Lady._ "Oh, thank you very much, Giles; but you surely forget that you lost your wife in the spring and broke your leg in the summer."

_Giles._ "Yes, but t'other leg's all right, and as for paw Soosan, it might have been I to be took instead."

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

POETRY OF NATURE.--When mist falls upon the earth, and freezes, it forms rime.

* * * * *

_Customer._ "You told me that 'oss 'ad won a dozen matches agin some o' th' best 'osses in the county. Why 'e can't trot a mile in ten minutes to save 'is life."

_Dealer._ "I didn't say 'e could. You never asked me what sort o' matches. It was in ploughin' matches 'e took the prizes!"

* * * * *

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.

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